


Abduction

by otaku_lady89



Category: Homestuck, Taken (2008)
Genre: By tumblr user homosexualpancakes, Gen, Inspired by a picture on tumblr, Kidnapping, Loosely based on the movie Taken, Ransom, Violence, Yes., and basically brother/fatherhood feels, and has to save dave's ass, and john's too, in which dirk is a badass, vengeance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otaku_lady89/pseuds/otaku_lady89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a trip to Europe, a graduation present from Bro, Dave and John end up kidnapped. When the kidnappers try to ransom them back to Dave's millionaire brother, they end up getting more than they bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 404 - File not found

> “A ransom note, the true test of unconditional love.”   
>  ― [Bauvard](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6676833.Bauvard),  _[Evergreens Are Prudish](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/18175224)_  
> 

* * *

 

A backpacking trip through Europe. It was the most ironically hipster gift Dave had ever gotten, and Dirk was rather proud of himself for thinking of it. Honestly, the irony was kind of lost in the face of the sincere and honest hug he'd gotten out of a very surprised and absolutely thrilled Dave, but hey. That was second to none. He'd nodded when Dave asked why there were two tickets; if it meant he could take John. Of course he could take his best goddamn friend. Well... so long as John's dad agreed.

And that was how Dirk ended up here, his ironically shitty pickup truck parked in the parking lot. The painjob was shit, but the engine under it purred like a race car. Dave was fiddling with his brand fucking new iphone 5, international package paid for, Dirk completely ready to accept all charges on it. The elder strider licked his lips nervously. Egderp and his dad were off in the corner having their own chat about responsibility and proudness and shit.

"First thing you do when you get there." Dirk demanded, voice clear that this was a test. He needed to make sure Dave remembered. Those ruby eyes glanced at him behind dark shades.

"Yeah, yeah, get to a knife shop, get me an unironically shitty sword." Dave recited.

"Then?"

"Check in at the hotel. Don't talk to strangers. Make sure to wear my chastity belt at all times, and for the love of god, Bro, seriously, back the fuck up. I'm going to be FINE. I'm fucking eighteen already, there is no need for this mother hen act bullshit." Dave's rolled eyes didn't reassure the feeling of worry in Dirk's gut. Ruffling the kid's finely quaffed hair, however, sort of did.

"I'm not gonna be there to keep you on your toes, kiddo. So you gotta watch out for you AND Egbert." He reminded him. Another bout of rolled eyes, and Dirk ruffled the white-blonde hair again, this time out of annoyance. John and his father joined the texans and they waved the boys off. Dirk felt an absolute bout of stomach dropping terror when Dave dissapeared onto the plane, and wrote it off as extremely ironic maternal feels.

* * *

  
"Oh my god, Dave, did your bro seriously pack us four boxes of condoms?!" John shrieked with laughter, Dave's blushing as he opened his suitcase making him laugh all the more. Their hotel room, per strider requirements, was absolutely plush. the beds were huge, and had weird hangings, and goddamn if france wasn't weird as hell, they had paintings of naked chicks on the walls.

"Shut up, Bro looks out for us." He huffed, closing the suitcase and then picking up a pillow to whack his best friend in the face with. "C'mon. We're heading to a pawnshop."

John paused his breathless laughter to raise an eyebrow, "Wha? How come? Don't you have your bro's credit card? Besides, what are we gonna sell, your virginity?" Another joke, and Dave considered strangling his friend. But the egderp was right, and he sighed to let him know it.

"We aren't SELLING, Douche, we're buying."

It took them four fucking hours to find one lousy pawnshop. This is what Dave gets for coming to a country he doesn't know the language for. And he was pretty sure that flouncy french girl was laughing her ass off at him. On the bright side, thanks to Google Maps, they found not only a pawn shop, but a mcdonalds. After purchasing a shitty sword (seriously, do all pawnshops specialise in this? even international ones, oh my god.), he and John sat down at the mcdonalds, after having ordered their first french meal. Two mcdoubles each and fries. Fuck yes.

"So... What do?" John asked, mouth full of half chewed hamburger. Dave rolled his eyes.

"Chew your food before asking a question, god, John, you'd think you were raised in a barn or something. Pigs have better table manners than you do. Know where the forks go and everything, and they even stick out their little piggy pinky fingers, while you spew food specks all over." Dave mumbled, before stealing some of the blue-eyed-boy's fries. John rolled his eyes, and steamrolled right over that metaphor.

"I mean, what do we do now, Dave? I mean, you don't SERIOUSLY wanna pick up french chicks do you?" He asked, grinning lazily. Buckteeth shining in the sun. Dave sighed, facepalming.

"No, dorkwad, we are not going to pick up french chicks. Well. maybe later, but for now the strider charm is focused on something else." He lifted up the two-hundred dollar camera that happened to be strapped around his neck. "We're going to play the most touristy tourists ever, and take touristy photos that I can then turn black and white and put on pinterest. Hurry up and finish your food, dude."  
Another hour for the derp to finish eating, and for dave to run the restaurant people ragged with requests for enough apple juice to water a small apple orchard (to which John replied that apple juice is apple cum, which caused Dave to simultaneously declare that he does not know john, and also pull him in for a full force noogie that left them both laughing and kicked out of the mcdonalds.) and they were on their way. First stop? That big archway thing.

"According to google it's called the 'arc de triomphe'. It means arc of triumph or something. Has something to do with independance?" John blinked, scanning over the wiki article on it on Dave's iphone. "Okay, so how do we do touristy pictures with this?"

"...Try and hold it up?" Dave offered, shrugging, as he took the lenscap off his camera, setting the settings for the right light. If there was anything Dave was serious about it was his photography. "Dude, just go make faces in front of it, and we'll figur-"

"Excuse me!" someone intereupted, and Dave paused. John trotted over to the blonde's side, as a french guy (who wasn't half bad looking, Dave was totally secure in his masculinity enough to notice) grinned at them. "I am so sorry to bother you, but would either of you happen to know directions to..." He paused, and looked at his phone, and John sent Dave a weirded out look. "Oh! To the Louvre?"

"...dude, you're french. Shouldn't you know this?" Dave asked, and John elbowed him in the side. "OW!" He rubbed the spot furiously. John had sharp as shit elbows.

"Sorry! What my friend MEANS to say is you should totally go THAT way!" He pointed towards the biggest building he could see. "That's totally it!"

The handsome guy asking directions grinned, "Thank you so much! Do you live here in Paris?"

John shook his head, "Nah! We're visiting from America." Dave felt something roiling in his stomach. There as something off about this situation. Something... wrong. He could almost equate it to the sensation he gets just before a load of smuppets are dumped on his head. Goddammit bro, making him paranoid.

"Oh! Well then, you should come see the Louvre with me! I would be happy to give you a tour. I am going for an art assignment, and would love the company!" The overly friendly french guy offered. Dave frowned, about to turn him down.

"Sure! Might as well, right Dave? We were planning on doing something touristy anyway!" John chirped, way too fucking happy for his own good. Every instinct in Dave's body told him this was a bad idea. But... Ah hell, who the fuck cares.

"Yeah, might as well. Let's go see the paintings and ooh and aah like monkeys over giant stone obelisks." Dave shoved his hands in his pocket, the sword he'd just bought a comforting weight on his back. John and himself followed the hot french guy, and he hid behind his passive shades. "So, what's your name?"

"Oh! Jeaque. Jeaque Gusteau." The name sounded familiar... Why the fuck would a french name sound familiar. He wasn't sure. As they all meandered through crowded french streets, he had to wonder... how did this guy know where they were going? Hadn't he asked for directions?

"Wow, there sure are a lotta side streets in Paris, hopy shit!" John laughed, completely unaware of the growing sense of dread. Sometimes Dave just wanted to strangle the kid. The tension in his shoulders was reminiscent of those moments where he just KNEW Dirk was going to jump out of nowhere and rub smuppet ass in his face. Except his bro is a continent over. There will be no smuppet ass.

The other shoe dropped when they went down an unmarked alley, and there was a black van waiting. Three guys closed ranks behind them, and Dave growled, hand going for the sword. His blue eyed companion didn't seem to realise what was happening until one of the assholes had a hand around his upper arm. John's eyes widened impossibly, and Dave saw the fear fill them up, and immediately drew the shitty blade. Fucking hell, he hated it when his bro was right.

The crunch of John's fist into one guy's nose, and the singing of Dave's shitty sword as it knocked a knife (and a hand) away from another guy, were silenced pretty quickly by the cocking of a gun. Dave froze, tension thrumming through him. Gusteau grinned, that sleezy fucker, gun pointed at John. Dave's reflexes, he could dodge that. John... John would die. Dave flinched behind his glasses, and lowered his sword.

"Get in the van, please."

They got in the van. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets as the gorilla that WASN'T missing a hand, closed the van door behind them. Gustea smiled, "I will take that phone of yours, pretty boy. No sudden movements."

What the fuck did they want Dave's phone for? He didn't frown. He didn't give them anything but impassivity, and handed over the eight hundred dollar peice of machinery. A christmas gift from Bro. Goddamn it. The man opened the slide, and pulled up the numbers. A raised eyebrow, and Gusteau chuckled, "No mama? No papa? Only this... Bro. I see. We shall try him, hm?"

Dave watched as they dialed his brother's number. Mistake number one, assholes.

* * *

 

"Dirk Strider, dick rider speaking." Dirk answered, because it was Dave calling, and of course he had to troll his little brother. Only, the breathing wasn't Dave's. He knew Dave. He knew everything about Dave, knew his first steps, his first word, his first fucking cut. He knew because he'd inflicted it. But this... This wasn't his baby boy.  
  
"Mister Strider, a pleasure. My name is Jaques Custeau-" Dirk cut him off right there.  
  
"The fuck it is, asshole, that's the name of a marine biologist. Unless you're very old or very dead, which, by the by, your voice does not sound either, your name is mud. It's a fake name, and I'm guessing you're calling to try and pull some repo shit with my kid. Put Dave on, or I hang up this phone right fucking now, and you don't get a cent."   
  
There was the sound of fumbling on the other end of the phone, and John's voice choked out some syllables, and then suddenly, Dave. "Hey bro." Goddamn that boy was chill. Good. Terror would do him no good.  
  
"How many of them are there, Dave." He asked, business end. He couldn't afford to get sentimental. It would freak Dave out, and then the situation'd be fucked.  
  
"I dunno, bro. Got dragged into a van by a bunch of gorillas and this asshole." He swallowed, and God, that just hit Dirk bad, because Dave had to be really fucking scared to lose control of his voice. "I don't think they're after my maidenly virtue, though, or they wouldn't have taken Egderp along with me. And since Egbert's dad's a fucking baker, they're probably after your illgotten fortune."   
  
Dirk didn't sigh. He refused to show that kind of emotion. "Good. Money we can deal with. Don't worry Dave. These assholes will pay. Put that fake fucker back on."  
  
Another shuffle of the phone, and the dulcet tones of the douchespatula who davenapped his brother came back on the line.  
  
"It's very simple, Mr. Strider. We want 100,000 dollars, US, brought to us in cash." The man oozed victory. Fucker had no idea who he was dealing with.  
  
"Right. I'll give you 300,000 for an unharmed, matching set. That means both of them, completely safe, not a hair on their head. If either of them is harmed, you get BULLSHIT. Got it?" He explained.  
  
"Perfectly acceptable. We will text you a location in three days. After that, you have two days to meet us there. Goodbye mr. Strider." And then the fucker hung up. Dirk immediately tried that bullshit family locator (totally worth $5.00 a month.) only to find he must have turned the cellphone off.  
  
Dirk dialled another number. "Hey, Jake? I need a favor."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk arrives in Paris and is Given an Ultimatum.

Jake greeted him with a bearhug the size of a fucking sedan. Not even joking. Dirk was pretty sure he'd felt ribs crack. The man was at least ten years older than him, how the fuck was he that strong. Oh yeah, gorilla fucking mountain man. He had his pretty little grandaughter with him too, the ten year old Jade, who for the life of him reminded him of someone... he wasn't sure who though.

"Nice to see you too, Jake." He deadpanned, trying not to let on how much that fucking hurt. Jake's plane, an Eclipse EA 500, was small, only fitting four people including the pilot, so with Jade, Jake, himself and that damn dog of Jade's, he wasn't sure he would have enough room to bring back the boys. Eh, he could always get them tickets on a normal plane. Send the swords back with jake. Yeah, that might work.

Cal was settled as a familiar weight around his throat. He'd need the strength. He ruffled little Jade's hair, and smirked up at his greying friend. "So. You guys willing to drop me in paris?"

"Of course we are, Dirk, why the devil's dickens would you call us if we weren't!" He chortled, english accent still prominent despite living in fuck-off nowhere. He didn't really want to contemplate the island natives and how Jade was Jake's cousin and his grandaughter all at once. He really didn't. "We'll drop ya off at the airport, ol chap, don't you give a bother." He laughed, and Jade giggled too.

The three of them (and that damn dog, jesus fuck he appeared outta nowhere.) boarded the plane, and Dirk strapped in, intent on this being the one flight where he DIDN'T lose his lunch. Airsickness was a bitch and a half. The dark haired little girl brought you a juice box. Apple. Well fuck me running, Dave'd love this girl. "Thanks, dahlin." He took the juicebox and started sipping. She ran off, delighted.

It was a long flight, and Dirk did not get the satisfaction of saying he didn't lose his lunch. Or the juicebox. On the bright side though, Jade was good at making sure there was a bucket handy if needs be. Once they'd landed, Dirk staggered upright and met Jake at the door. "Thanks. I'll grab my luggage and go."

"Now hold on there, chum. I don't see why I ought to just let you wander off on your own. Take Jade and Bec with you at the very least."

Dirk stared at him. "You're fucking kidding right? Jake, she's a KID. I am not taking a kid into a situation like this. Use your damn head for once."

"Oh come now! Jade can handle it, and she's well prepared. She made sure to bring her rifles with her." The girl did in fact have one of the biggest fucking rifles he'd ever seen with her. Jesus christ. And people thought *HE* was insane for strifing with Dave everyday. Jade smilled up at him, as if she expected to go for walkies. Her dog too.

"No." Dirk put his foot down. Well, not literally. But he did so by striding off the plane, and opening the luggage compartment. Taking out the duffelbag he'd brought full of money and swords, he ignored jake's calling for him, and counted that as one argument won.

* * *

 

However, on the streets of paris, that was something entirely different. And whoever this Charles de Gaulle guy was, he clearly fucked up, putting an airport in such a big ass city. Dirk felt like he was back in new york again for a while. This is why he moved to houston. Seriously.

Luckily, Dirk managed to hop a tramway or whatever the fuck those streetcar things are called, and find a convenient little map. It even had english on it. Fuck yes, score for Strider. Taking it out, he quickly memorised the layout. Thank god for years of robotics works and a sharp memory. Too bad Dave didn't inherit that shit.

He pulled out his phone, double checking. No calls or texts from the kidnappers. He could only imagine what they were doing right now. Probably moving his lil bro and egbert to somewhere secure. He hoped Dave wasn't stupid enough to give them hell. Then again, Dirk had raised him to never be complacent. Fuck.

First things first. He needed to go transfer some money, which meant opening a bank account. He'd always wanted an overseas bank account. It'd make money trafficking so much easier. Not that he ever did that, nah. He was too cool for that.

Walking into the bank gave him a chance to watch people get confused by his appearance. He loved that. Polo shirt, ironic cap (that he happened to love, so fuck you) and tight jeans showing off his plush ass. Hells yeah, he was here on business, and no it had nothing to do with the amazing Cal that wrapped around him like a lover.

He filled out the paperwork, refusing to make small talk with the french fuck who was trying to get him to basically buy the fucking place. Wasn't a bad idea, Dirk was pretty sure Dave's future would be real fucking secure with a bank under their name... But nah, he wasn't any kind of normal that he would spend money on a *BANK* of all fucking things.

Bank account opened, he was informed it would take about 24 hours to ship his money from the us to the french soil. Which sucked balls. But hopefully, he would be able to inform the idiots who stole his brother of that, and then inform him that his sorry ass dont get no dough till he gets a location at which to meet.

Not that he intended to give any money to this asshole anyway.

* * *

 

Next step, hotel. He'd need someplace to take Dave and John when he got them back. ...Big bathtub was required. Along with a good shower. LOTS of hot water. He'd need it to deal with the stress. A good four hour long shower should do wonders.

Turns out there was this posh place called Plaza athenee, which wasn't half bad looking. Chandeliers and shit. When they checked his credit limit, suddenly there were three maids and a guy in a suit serving him like his ass had just landed on butler island. He happily took his place in the room, dropping the duffel he'd brought with him, and checking his cell phone again. Still nothing. Goddammit.

Cal flitted to the bed, taking up a perch and smiling at him reassuringly. He gave the bro a fistbump, and decided to take a shower.

FUCKING FIGURES the assholes would call in the middle of his goddamn shower. Just. Fucking. figures. Lucky, they left a message.

"Two days time, Garden of Luxemburg. You leave a case by the giant leijon statue, and we will release the boys. We will not wait, Mr. Strider. If the case is not there, with all 300,000, we will start sending peices back to america by freight."

...Yeah, there was no way Dirk was letting this asshole get away with this.


End file.
